


tell me you love me on the bathroom floor

by soldierwitch



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, POV Betty Cooper, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:41:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29545308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soldierwitch/pseuds/soldierwitch
Summary: It’s been seven years since Betty’s had Archie. Though in hindsight she realizes that what she had back then was just a taste. A chaste kiss on the lips, a slip of the tongue. Underneath the stream of water coming from his shower head, she wonders what she really knew of him physically.set during the s5 shower scene
Relationships: Archie Andrews/Betty Cooper
Comments: 4
Kudos: 78





	tell me you love me on the bathroom floor

**Author's Note:**

> It's been awhile since I've written something for Riverdale but the rise of Barchie has me in my feelings so here I am. The title of this fic comes from Cosmic by chloe mk, the lyrics were also an inspiration.
> 
> You make me wanna make me wanna  
> Give it all to you  
> Give it all to you  
> Once I get a taste I never wanna stop  
> Don’t you ever take your fucking hands off it  
> You know what to do oh yeah  
> Give it all to you oh yeah

It’s been seven years since Betty’s had Archie. Though in hindsight she realizes that what she had back then was just a taste. A chaste kiss on the lips, a slip of the tongue. Underneath the stream of water coming from his shower head, she wonders what she really knew of him physically. 

Did Archie always have a smattering of freckles on his shoulder caps or the bridge of his nose? Were his hands always rough enough to thrill her but soft enough to make her shiver under their attention? She’d never had his thumb in her mouth or her teeth on his neck before. He’d never brushed his knuckles against her breast.

Betty can’t remember a time when she wasn’t a blusher. Her cheeks don’t heat easily but when they do, they rosy up like a spring bloom. When they were kids, she’d blush and blush for Archie. Her excitement palpable and innocent thinking of hand holding and the shape of the word ‘mine’ in her mouth.

Now she’s got her hands full of Archie’s ass as he thrusts into her, his fingers wet from the shower and her snatch. He keeps cursing softly into her skin, his grip tight on her thigh. And she’s breathless, his name coming from her in whimpers and moans. 

It’s nothing like she pictured. This isn’t her dream. In her teenage fantasies, Betty imagined rose petals and candles. A slow love-making under the cover of night and the slight fear that her parents would come home early and ruin everything. 

But for who they are now, this works for her. Betty left tender somewhere in her early twenties. She’s not delicate. Life ripped the band-aid off her innocence and left a gash in its wake. For as much as Archie hasn’t changed, she can tell growing up took its toll on him, too. His heart is still big and golden, shining brighter than anything she’s ever seen. But it’s bruised. 

She can see it in the tip of his smile and his eyes when his mind wanders to places she can’t go. It’s only been a few days, but Betty’s starting to reacquaint herself with Archie’s silences. The darkness that hovers over him like a cloud, never lingering long but there as a reminder that no one walks through life untouched.

Betty wonders if he’s noticed hers as well. If the reason they’re here right now is because they need it. If he’s telling her she sounds so damn beautiful because he needs someone to hold. Someone to make feel good, if only for a little while. But there’s a louder part of her--the part pulling his hair and hissing, “Please, Arch,” like he’s her only lifeline--that doesn’t think it matters.

Archie is shooting her toward the stars, and she’s taking him with her. She’s never had this feeling with him before. This desperate, crawling need to pull him closer and closer until she can’t tell where they end. It’s possessive, her nails scratching down his back is proof. But it’s also intoxicating. Delirious even. 

She’s happy and it’s not just the release like a pressure lifted. It’s Archie’s forehead against hers afterward, his breathing harsh. It’s his hands on her waist and the lift of his eyes to meet hers before he grins wide. Her cheeks hurt from her own smile and when he cracks a joke about this not getting them clean, she laughs and laughs.

They take their time washing up. Betty fights the urge to drop to her knees but Archie doesn’t. They’re barely out of the shower before he’s grabbing her again and guiding her to the bathroom floor. 

He whispers, “Just once,” before he licks into her, and Betty throws her head back, lost to the feeling. If someone had told her that by the time she’s 25 she’d be running her fingers through Archie’s hair as he sucks on her clit, she first would have been scandalized but second, and this is more important, she wouldn’t have believed them. 

Betty used to operate on a certain set of facts. She’d always be a little in love with Archie no matter how much time passed, and he wouldn’t feel the same. But the way he’s working at her like a man incapable of not loving on her until they’re both satisfied, it seems she may need to reevaluate. All she’s tasted since they crossed this line is how much he’s missed her, how much he wants her, and happiness. Pure, unfiltered joy like the sunshine pouring through the window above them. 

If this is what having Archie is like then Betty never wants to let him go. Damn what comes next. Reality can be her and Archie on this bathroom floor. That’s all she needs and all she wants.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Feedback is appreciated.


End file.
